Lamiae
by HallowHandses
Summary: The Potters and the Blacks have been united in a rather glorious marriage, a marriage which produces a lovely child. When a Vampire aligned with Voldemort attacks, what'll happen? No pairing at the moment. ABANDONED
1. A Vampire

A/N: This has been floating around my mind for the past several days. I _adore_ vampires as well as Bellatrix. And on additional side note, this chapter was particularly hard for me to write in terms of emotion because I am very emotionally **un** equipped. I'll be writing this without much of a plan, just a very, very basic outline.

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They were laughing, Julian Potter and his wife, Bellatrix Black. Contrary to what had the latter had turned out, she was sympathetic. She was happy, loving, caring, and absolutely…perfect for the humorous and mischievous Potter. It was also an arranged marriage, his father, Fleamont Potter cooperating with the Head of the Black family. They were to marry in exchange for a alliance and money, the latter appealing to the Blacks and the former to the Potters.

The two of them had a child with huge sparkling eyes that seemed to change colors constantly. Bellatrix had smiled joyously, wrapping her arms as best she could around Julian when she saw her child. Joy, at that moment in time, was rampant throughout the Potter household. They had held enormous balls as well as larger, and more private, parties with the sole purpose to celebrate their new child. Fleamont Potter had been extremely pleased by the outcome and would have been even if there hadn't been any form of celebration.

He had seen those eyes glint with an intelligence that wasn't possessed by babies. They foretold of a strong girl, one with magical prowess. He simply _knew._

Months later, Bellatrix could be found nursing her, a smile gracing her face as she watched her young girl. She was in a bright room, filled with all sorts of magical toys as well as books. Her child was playing around with an enchanted stuffed animal, mesmerized by the horse that somehow trotted by itself.

How did that work? Was it alive? The child was confused but laughed at the movements nonetheless. She then felt something along the horse, something coating the horsey. She touched it and emitted an even louder laugh. She made it do tricks, touching and bending that sticky thing. Bellatrix was perplexed. What did she do? What did her child, her precious child do to the horse?

She called Julian over and heard him coming down the stairs. She smiled, still looking at her child. They were so, perfect. Julian was working as a merchant, searching for dangerous artifacts for the Magical Museums and private collectors. And, using the money that he had been able to earn along with money that his father had given him the year he had turned eighteen. That was in 1976.

Bellatrix fondly remembered their marriage in January 31, 1978. Julius was around three years older than his brother and she was around six or seven years older than him. It was an interesting fact that neither of them had married until they were nearly thirty years old, which was late for a Magicals. Normally, they'd be married the moments they were out of Hogwarts, but something had held the two of them back.

Bellatrix mentally shrugged at that particular fact, absolutely loving the way that her life had turned out. She heard Julius call out, asking what had happened, causing her to glance at her beloved husband. She felt her heart skip a beat, the sight of what was supposed to be him causing her to draw her wand and back into the room with her child.

She shakily pointed at the stranger, the girl's blood red hair drawn back, her porcelain face beautiful enough to capture men even better than Veela. Her gait was that of a predator, proud yet careful. She was wearing a shirt soaked on a rather amazing, blood-colored dye. She was speaking in Julius' voice.

"Hi, my lovely Bellatrix. What has the child done today?" The newcomer smirked, coming closer and closer to Bellatrix who had picked up her child and placed her behind the strange woman. Suddenly the woman's voice changed. "My, my, aren't you scared, child? But why should you, when Julius is here. Right…here."

Bellatrix simply couldn't get her body to cast at the creature that stood before her as it pulled out a mop of black hair out of a bag. The creature grabbed it by the hair and pulled, causing it to come loose from the bag and Bellatrix to emit a sob. It was her Julius, fear frozen on his face.

Then she realized in that moment. He wouldn't be coming back down to pull her in for a kiss. She wouldn't find herself lost in his eyes, smelling him again. She had lost him all to this _bitch._

This hatred, the pain and the anger, fueled her magic, causing it to grow larger, her body to become much more stronger. She felt magic at the tip of her fingertips, her eyes sparkling with magic. The piece of shit in front of her smiled a feral smile once more, fangs now protruding from the top jaw. It wet its lips, as if savoring the magic that would kill her.

Bellatrix cast a spell, then followed it with hundreds more, casting curses and jinxes at a phenomenal rate. But the vampire dodged all of them, none of them nicking its body despite being a mere two or three meters away. Bellatrix continued to curse as it came close enough to her. She continued to curse as it bit her, the vampire shoving a paralytic drug into her body through its teeth. She continued to curse as she saw her child being bitten by the damned creature from fucking Hell.

Then Bellatrix felt a jolt of joy as the creature suddenly fell first, emitting a scream of pain as it released its bite on her precious child. She wanted to rush over, to run and comfort the child, but she couldn't. She was far too weak, her body frozen. She heard her child scream in pain and in sorrow, somehow understanding what had happened.

She felt her heart being wrenched away from her chest as she saw her child writhing in pain now, crying. It was squealing in pain and yet, Bellatrix simply couldn't fucking move. She screamed at her body to move and hold the child, to comfort her, but instead it was useless. She was trapped in her own mind, unable to communicate with the outside world.

She saw the writhing stop as well as the crying, her child's eyes turning a deep blood red and her features turning into a more defined face. The baby fat melted away, the body, despite being only two and a half-feet tall, turning into a beautiful, attractive, and more…mature person. Her body still remained the same, though was slightly thinner. It was the teeth that set Bellatrix off, causing her to seethe in anger at the bitch who had come into her house. Two, elongated fangs protruded from the child's upper jaw, like the creature's.

 _Merlin, no_ , Bellatrix cried mentally. _NO! I'll take care of her. I'll take care of her._

And from there, she chanted it mentally. The chant was the only thing that kept her from breaking.

Her child emitted a wail as the Aurors and Emergency Magical Team came in. Bellatrix was suddenly tired, something running through her veins. It was a potion, she realized. A Dreamless Sleep potion that Aurors used for traumatized victims. She fought with every fiber of her mind to stay awake, but she simply couldn't.


	2. A Baby and a Seven Year Old Child

A/N: I'm actually going through with this story unlike the other one! Sorry about the sudden time transitions, there'll be one more massive one before time will properly progress. There might be a slight similarity between Isolde and Daphne or Black from Scientia Potentia Est because I'm the same writer. I've also forgotten to state that there might be a similarity or two between Princess of the Blacks, Delenda Est, and a few other fanfics.

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Afanas walked down the long, psychologically cold halls of the Ministry. He had seen Vlad the Impaler set up his forests, actually partaking in it himself. He had seen his brethren being tortured, raped, burnt, and skinned alive. He had seen living daemons on this Earth in the form of Wizards and yet, he was deeply disturbed by the Ministry building. It was unsettling, feeling the magic his surroundings. There was magic _everywhere_. There was not one place where it was pure, simple earth. From the food to the very foundation, magic was evident. These Wizards were now complacent, useless from the old days.

Back then, Wizards were a strong, united force that had the power to suppress the two most violent races on this Earth, werewolves and Goblins. Then they had turned their large looming head towards Vampires, killing them for sport. Afanas had shuddered each time he remembered the single sound of a trumpet bursting through the muted sounds of the forest. He had run for miles, dug for even more miles, and swam into the depths of the ocean.

The Wizards had killed thousands of his brothers and sisters in their hunts, treating the Vampires like animals. "How dare they?!" His brethren shouted, raising one Vampire above them all. He was the most ruthless and tactically gifted one of them all at the time. His name was Vlad Tepes.

Afanas curled his lips into an imitation of a smile, revealing his fangs to those around him. A crowd parted for him, causing the smile to become bigger. Oh, how he had loved Vlad, a man with absolutely fantastic ideas. It was a great time for them, despite being a mere hundred years. They had commissioned ludicrously fast attacks against the Wizards that were hunting them, exploiting each and every ability of theirs to infect the Wizards with incurable diseases and poisons. They had been ruthless, a great race once more. But the Wizards of the world had rallied against them and, after what the Muggles considered the Night Attack at Târgovişte, they had fallen like those before them.

The Wizards had imposed their laws on the weakened race, causing their dignity to drop even further. But then they had banded together, creating a society composed of clans, mimicking the system that the Wizards had adopted. But instead of needing to be born into a family, clan leaders could pick and choose who would and wouldn't be a part of their clan or 'family.' Afanas was a leader of a clan, a clan that was one of the highest there was. There was a grand total of seventy members in his clan, a massive number considering the fact that there were hundreds of clans and that there were typically no more than twenty. All of the members were guaranteed not to harm him due to respect and due to magical protections, protections that prevents them from doing harm to him.

Afanas had come to the Ministry to take posession of the child instead another clan leader due to the fact that this little child came from a deceased Potter and a certain Bellatrix Black. The two families had held treaties and had a form of alliance with the Vampires for the past few centuries, but the Potters had cut that tie as well as the Blacks due to the sudden attack on their family. Perhaps, he'd be able to get the Vampires back into their favor by taking their child into his clan.

But other than that particular point, he also had a reason. It had been such a long time since he had raised a child and being unfertile himself, he had been unable to create any children. He had been far too...dignified to turn a person. It was also illegal to do such a thing without the written and documented consent of a person. He didn't want to take the time to seduce a young woman or go to an orphanage. After all, being the leader of a renowned clan, he had to have a criteria and this girl certainly fit this criteria.

Nearly thirty minutes later, he found himself cradling a small child. A rather beautiful child, more beautiful than a Vamprie fledgling her age which was saying something. There seemed to be allure around her, something that caused him to be drawn towards her eyes. Those eyes never seemed to stay the same. Afanas couldn't discern what was more disorientating, the eyes that seemed to stare into his soul or the sheer magic that seemed to surround the child.

Afanas felt a sense of exultation at the fact that he would be able to raise such a child. Afanas simply smiled at the black, heavyset Auror that gave the child to him. The Auror was obviously uneasy, and for good reason as well due to the fact that one of his (Afanas') kind had killed an elite Wizard who was part of a very renowned family. On that note, it was rather fortunate that the Wizards weren't able to declare war due to the fact that they had a tyrant on their hands.

He smiled at the Auror, letting his fangs show as a glint appeared in his eye. Afanas' smile grew wider as he felt the unease in the Wizard grow. Cradling the baby in his hands, all that was left for him to do before returning to his home was a trip to St. Mungo's because even he, Afanas, a cold-hearted, deadly Vampire knew the pain that a parent would have when their child is taken from him.

Afanas exited the Ministry building, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders and immediately Apparated to the hospital for Wizards. He checked in, still holding the baby as he felt the Aurors suddenly become more attentive at his appearance. They held their staffs and their wands with anticipation for a fight, their knuckles whitening. All Afanas did was roll his eyes as a wide berth was given to him, heading towards the Wing that the kind Medi-Witches had told him to go to. He was there to see Bellatrix.

A few minutes later, he found himself sitting next to the injured Black, watching as Bellatrix softly talked to her child. Afanas felt a pang of pain in his heart, remembering the centuries ago. This was going to hurt him just a bit less than it would the mother.

"Bellatrix," Afanas said after letting the Witch talk to her child for nearly thirty minutes, "I should bring her to my home. The Witches around me are terrified of my very presence, and you must certainly rest. You can see her again, but I do believe that you'll have to wait for a few months for the situation to calm down. "

The Witch gave a shuddering breath. She seemed on the verge of tears, Afanas feeling the pain gripping her heart and giving it a horrid squeeze. She nodded, saying, "The damned Vampire is dead, right?"

Afanas is nodded. "Lamia, the Vampire which attacked you, is dead. Her clan has gone into hiding, hiding against the Wizard known as-"

"Don't say the bastard's name here!" Bellatrix shouted, catching Afanas off-guard. Was she so scared of the Wizard? Wasn't she a Black, one of the strongest members of her family?

Afanas sent a questioning glance at her. "The bloody Wizard's name is a Taboo."

It now made sense. He nodded and reached out for the child, knowing that it was far too hard for Bellatrix to do this. He smiled, letting the warmth reach his eyes and muttered his thanks. He heard her say, "Take good care of her."

Afanas smiled, turning as he did so. "Of course, I will, Black. Do you doubt me so much?" Black looked a bit sheepish. Afanas' smile grew even wider. "She will be taken care of and taught to become a fighter like her mother. I certainly hope to see you once more."

 **Seven Years pass**

Isolde was thrown forcibly against the floor, hearing her body thud against the unyielding carpet floor. Tears decorated her face nicely, her sobbing symphonies filling the room. They were beautiful, or at least that Wizards that stood before her prone body thought so. Their gruff, cruel faces graced a horrid imitation of a smile. She couldn't think of a spell that would protect her from these monster, monsters that came closer to her.

Her home was in ruins, her books strewn this way and that. The walls had been torn down and corpses littered the house. Her toys were broken, wood covering the lush, scorched carpet. Her home had been a grand house, filled with all sorts of splendid books and baubles. But then the stigma against the Vampires had bubbled over, causing many to lash out against the creatures of the dead, and rather illegally.

Isolde's father, or guardian as she later learned, Afanas, was currently off dealing with the Wizards in the Ministry, attempting to come to a form of truce with the Wizards.

"What do we have here, boys?" She felt a jolt of fear strike her heart as she realized what was going to happen.

She then cried, "No! Mercy!"

"Well," the Wizard smiled, "you certainly have a pretty face."

As they forcibly took her clothes off, the thread tearing far too loudly, she whimpered in fear, the tears flowing even more freely than before. Her eyes burned, her body became far too hot for b her liking. The voices in her mind became unbearable.

Isolde whimpered, making the Wizard's smiles grow even larger. She felt fear grip her heart and give it a mighty squeeze. Her chest constricted as she felt them pull her clothes off, taking out their horrid appendages. She could hear every breath of theirs, their footsteps against the carpet. She inwardly shuddered each time that a hand grasped at her small body, her mind screaming as they threw her against a table.

She heard each of his breaths, felt each of his thrusts. She felt her body protest at the invasion. Dying would be so much better than this. She felt every inch of their bodies, the coarse pavement against her skin. Her mind bent under the pressure of the experience, its thoughts being twisted and perverted. She felt so disgusting, she felt the repulsion grow even more. She wanted to throw up, to curse them out, but she couldn't get herself to do those things. What was wrong with her?

They muttered derogatory phrases, calling her a bitch, slut, and whore repeatedly. She felt her hate and anger grow, as well as the pain. She didn't know how she managed to do it, but she managed to get them off of her. She barely remembered how she disemboweled one of the three men, how she managed to slit another's throat, and how she sucked the Wizard dry, the one who she had attempted to kill before. She felt the blood rushing through her body, her strength returning. Her body suddenly returned to its normal conditions as she sat against a wall, letting her tears flow.

She felt her heart bleeding, her mind screaming. She grabbed her head and curled into a fetal position, sobs wracking her body. She lay there, crying for God only knows how long before she got up. Her mind was still scarred, but she'd cry later. She had to get back to her father.

"Isolde?" She heard someone ask, the person's clothes dirtied with the blood, semen, and dirt on the floor. "Are you okay?"

She whirled around, seeing a tall man dressed in fine clothes. He had a rather handsome face, a beard gracing his features. He seemed like an ordinary person, but no ordinary person would remain calm in such carnage.

"What does it look like, Afanas?" She asked hotly, still furious. "Oh, I've just been raped by three wizards. I'm _fine."_

Suddenly, her face crumpled up and ran towards her father, sobs racking her body once more. Her face crumpled as Afanas wrapped his arms around her, his own tears rolling down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Isolde," her father sobbed, "I'm so sorry."

The child's grip only became stronger, their tears mingling and seeping into their clothes. They remained like that, two figures hugging in a ruined home as Medi-Witches deployed by the Black family and the rest of their clan arrived. They were both brought to St. Mungo's once Afanas signaling the clan to stand down and muttering something incomprehensible to his second in command.

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A/N: Absolutely fucking fun. I breezed over the exact details, knowing fully well that I'd botch it up.

 **roon0:** Thanks.

Cheers, thanks for reading, etc.

HHS


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